What It Means To Give
by only here in your arms
Summary: Daryl learns from Carol what it means to give. (Three part short story)
1. To Give

**Part I of III: To Give**

He saw her with a dull knife and her orange headscarf, sitting on the cement floor of her cell, carefully tearing into the fabric with care. That headscarf brought back memories of her that he locked away and seeing her handling it made him annoyed but curious.

"What are you doin'?" he asked softly. It was the middle of the night and he'd just come off watch. He figured he'd get some sleep but seeing as Carol was the only one up he could at least keep her company for a bit.

She looked up with tired eyes but the smile on her lips was reassuring for him. She still managed to have some sort of happiness no matter their living situation or the time of day.

"Trying to cut this in half," she answered before going back to her work.

"I see that," he grumbled, taking a seat on her neatly made bed. "But why?"

"Wanted to make something," she said. She held up the fabric with the tear in the middle, holding it up to the small bit of moonlight and examined her work. "I'm not very crafty but I just wanted to make something for us."

"Us?" Daryl was taken back.

Carol took the two halves again and separated them with a quick movement, causing a satisfying and clean riiiiiiiiip to sound through the cell block. Sighing in relief, Carol took one of the pieces and folded it in on itself lengthwise, making a long rope with it. She did the same with the other, pressing down each crease strongly. She took the smaller of the two and wrapped it around her wrist like some sort of bracelet, trying the end with a secure knot. With the other piece she scooted over to Daryl and held out her hand, silently asking for his own wrist.

"What's this for?" Daryl demanded to know. He gave Carol his wrist anyways but had no idea what she was doing. She'd ripped apart her favorite, albeit only, scarf just to wrap it on his arm?

"Kind of like a friendship bracelet," Carol explained as she tied the fabric. "So we'll have something of each other."

Daryl snorted. "Ain't like this could remind you of me. It's your scarf."

"Yeah," Carol nodded with a laugh. "But I'll remember you have the other half."

Daryl went silent at that point, taking note of Carol's change of tone. Quickly they went from laughing to serious. He thought he could appease her with this, it wasn't much to ask of him, but it meant more to her than he thought.

She wanted him to have something to remember her by and her of him. She was trying to make memories for them in case…

"We ain't dyin' any time soon," Daryl said to her.

Looking up, Carol said, "We both aren't fool enough to think that, Daryl."

"We've been survivin', we got food and ammo and walls, we're—"

"A war is coming," Carol interrupted him. "And I know you're afraid. I'm afraid. But war or not, death is the only thing certain of this life. Whether it's tomorrow or years from now, I don't want to keep going without making memories for us. This," she motioned to their matching bracelets. "Is just one of them. I'm just giving you a memory by giving you this."

Daryl tore his eyes from Carol's and looked down to his wrist. He twisted it around, noticing that it wouldn't affect him handling his crossbow or guns or anything, and let it be.

"All Merle's gonna give me is shit for wearing something this color," he said in a joking tone. But he wasn't joking at all. Merle would do exactly that and joke about the lady that gave it to him.

"We could always get some dirt on it, try to mask the color," Carol suggested. She'd taken a seat beside him now and fluffed her very flat pillow.

"Nah, don't matter," Daryl shrugged. "Hell, I like it. More important to have as it is. It's a memory, right?"

Carol smiled, blushed, and looked down to her own wrist. "It is. I'm glad you like it."


	2. To Give Back

**Part II of III: To Give Back**

Last minute scavenging involved a truck, two Dixons, and a very deserted lodge up in the woods. It was something that wasn't found on a map, only word of mouth spread its presence, but thankfully the older Dixon remembered it and the brothers were on their way to see if they could scrounge anything up.

On their way to the lodge Merle wouldn't shut up about Daryl's choice of 'jewelry,' as Merle called it. "My baby brother wearing a girly little bracelet, did ya make it yourself? Why wasn't I invited to arts and crafts?"

Daryl kept quiet, only muttering a 'shut up Merle' every few minutes. He drove with his right arm which held Carol's scarf and he'd look down at it whenever Merle made a comment. He brushed off all of Merle's insults and remembered what Carol had said. It was a friendship bracelet between them. Only two people in the world who had them.

It made him feel…good.

Finally they made it to the lodge where no sign of life seemed to be near. Not even walkers. They cleared out several of the one story buildings and made quick work of getting every little bit they could. The lodge was a popular place for hunters and made for a decent arsenal of ammo, guns, and weapons.

It felt strange to Daryl though. The lodge was untouched, not even by walkers messing about. He'd expected the ugly biters to just pop out at him but none did.

But he wasn't going to complain. He and Merle emptied out the lodge quickly and the two separated for a bit, as Merle wanted to relieve himself in one of the bathrooms.

Daryl walked into one of the lodge maintenance rooms to find any sort of weapons and found a coil of lead-free solder wire. He'd used this in his high school shop class, using it to secure wire to things. But he sometimes would take some and make shapes with it. It was flexible material, not easily rusted by water, and perfect to make Carol something with.

The brothers came back to a silent prison. Maggie and Glenn acknowledged their return from their spot at the guard tower and inside everyone else was moving in some routine without speaking. Beth was rocking a sleepy Judith in her arms, Carl was cleaning and reloading the weapons with Michonne at his side doing the same thing, Hershel was organizing their little bits of food and other supplies, Rick was moving back and forth with bags of ammo, and Carol was at the makeshift kitchen for dinner.

How solemn it felt in the cell block made Daryl feel uneasy. As if they had already given up the hope of surviving the inevitable war. Normally someone was talking or at least making sound. Hell, Judith was usually gurgling something and she was silent too.

"Got some more weapons!" Merle happily broke the weird tension in the room as he shouted and dropped the bag in front of Carl and Michonne. "Y'all are welcome."

Everyone looked up and gave their nods of acknowledgement and went back to their tasks. This made Merle roll his eyes and stomp up the stairs where his secluded cell block was, muttering something along the lines of, "I risk my life for you people and y'all just stay ungrateful."

Daryl on the other hand just awkwardly made his way into his own cell and brought out the coil of solder wire. Making sure no one was around he started to twist and bend it into some sort of shape.

After a dinner filled with forced small talk and smiles, everyone disappeared into their own little corners again. This gave Daryl the chance to give Carol what he had worked on for a few hours. He had guard duty just as soon as Glenn and Maggie were…done…and so he found that a perfect enough time.

He was nervous to show Carol what he had made for her and at least if someone called him for his guard duty he could make a swift exit without being awkward like the night Carol gave him her scarf. He stumbled on his words then, saying he should go and get some sleep, but it had come out muttered and mumbled and unintentionally flustered.

Tonight Carol was just laying in bed over her covers, seemingly just relaxing. She beckoned him in when he appeared in her doorway and made room for him to sit beside her.

"How was the run?" she asked him.

"Simple 'nough," he answered. "Wasn't overrun. Not even picked through."

"That's good," Carol said sincerely.

Daryl expected Carol to continue their conversation by bringing up something random, like she usually did since they both knew he wouldn't do that, so when he was left with the silence he became all nervous.

He'd never given a woman a gift before, other than his mother, but that was decades ago. He gave her some flowers for her birthday but never an actual gift. And the Cherokee rose in a bottle couldn't be thought of as a gift either. He gave to Carol when her little girl was gone and it was to keep her hopes up.

But this was a deliberate gift. Handmade and everything.

"I…uh…" Daryl cleared his throat and fumbled in his pants pocket to take out his present. "Made somethin' for ya."

Daryl quickly reshaped the little Cherokee rose before showing it off to Carol. It was just an outline of the flower with a circular center and an unfinished band to connect either side of the rose. It was plain, hastily made, but a work of art, in Carol's eyes.

"Wow," was all she could manage to say. She took it from his hand gently and examined it closely. "What—"

"Found the wire when we were on the run," Daryl replied. "Wanted to uh…make you something too. You know." He gesture to the fabric still on his wrist.

Carol looked at him and smiled, happy tears collecting in her eyes. She brought out her wrist and placed the band on it. She urged him to tie it onto her wrist, opposite the one with her scarf, and he obeyed, tying the end of the band securely onto the opposite petal leaf.

"This is beautiful," Carol said in amazement, admiring her new bracelet. "Thank you so much for giving this to me."

"Hell, it ain't nothin'," Daryl said with a slight upturn of his lips. "Just some wire."

"No," Carol shook her head. "It's a memory."

Daryl couldn't disagree with that. It was the reason he made it in the first place. He finally nodded and played with the loose end of his scarf bracelet while he watched Carol as she marveled over his piece of art.


End file.
